Who'd Have Thought?
by AngelsLame
Summary: How Buffy and Spike save the world from Glorificus, and save themselves along the way... Alternative Season 5 Spuffified ending.


**WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT?**

 **DISCLAIMER: Joss' blocks, my building.**

 **SPOILERS: Everything up through "The Body"**

 **SUMMARY: Buffy and Spike...Need I say more?**

* * *

Funerals were such funny things. Not funny, ha ha, but funny odd. Saying good-bye to someone who wasn't even there. Buffy could understand how Anya felt. She didn't know what to do either. Thank God for Giles stepping in and taking over the mechanics of selecting the casket and putting the notices in the paper and all those little details. Buffy was still in a daze. She and Dawn sought comfort with each other and it seemed like Willow and Tara had taken it upon themselves to make sure that she was never alone. It was good to have friends.

It was the second day of the wake. Why did it always rain at funerals? They were getting ready to close the doors to have the memorial service and close the casket. Just family. Thank you. Buffy was at the side door of the room saying good bye to some of her mother's friends that had stopped in to express their surprise and concern for the two daughters left alone. "No, we'll be fine. Thank you for dropping by. Mom would have appreciated it. Please call us soon. We'd like to keep in touch," when she heard Willow's gasp from across the room. She followed Willow's stare to the open casket. There, in an old, albeit clean, dark suit, stood Spike. He looked down into the casket quietly then reached up and softly touched Joyce's hair.

She couldn't believe her eyes. She saw the last couple out the door and strode purposefully to the front of the room. "Spike," she said quietly but with as much anger as she could express without hitting him, "how dare you?"

He didn't answer at first, he wasn't in a fighting mood. Then he took a deep breath and looked up. "Just payin' my respects to your mum, Slayer. I'm leaving now."

"Then leave," Buffy hissed. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his image any more and turned to put her hands on her mother's casket. Spike hesitated and said, half to himself, "She was a good woman." Then he did as he was told. He left.

The only people still in the room knew what she had been through and were not surprised at her reaction to Spike. In fact, they thought it extremely tame. Giles closed, and locked, the door after Spike and Xander came to the front of the room and put his arm around Buffy.

When she knew he was gone, Buffy opened her eyes again, to look one last time on her mother's face. It _was_ a good face, she thought, kind, inviting, sweet. She reached up to touch it. Then she noticed something small on the pillow where her mother rested. "What's this?" she asked herself. She reached down and retrieved the tiny, soft, white...marshmallow. "Who w...?" she wondered. But before she could finish the question, she knew. Images came flooding back to her. Images of Spike sitting on her kitchen counter, sharing hot chocolate with her mom and Dawn. Images of her Mom sitting in his crypt making small talk, discussing "Passions".

She looked up at Xander. "Xander," she said simply, "he's all alone."

"Who, Spike?" Xander answered. "He likes it that way."

She shook her head, "I've got to go." She ran to the door and out into the rain after Spike.

Spike had stopped outside to light a cigarette under an awning and think about Joyce. He leaned up against the wall. Joyce had been kinder to him that his own mother. Nannies were the order of his day and his class of folk. No other woman had ever asked him in for cocoa. He was going to miss that. He jumped when Buffy slammed open the door of the funeral home looking frantically up and down the street for him.

"Just leaving, Slayer." He pushed himself off the wall and began to walk away. Buffy ran in front of him and stood in his way.

Spike tried to step around her. "Slayer," he threatened. It came out less convincingly than he'd hoped. Spike was just barely holding it together. He had to leave now, but there she was, in his way again.

"Buffy," he began again, but this time it wasn't her name, it was pain. Suddenly she reached out and pulled him close to her. He'd dreamed so long of putting his arms around her, but here, tonight, in his grief, he barely realized what he was doing. He just needed someone to hold, tight.

They stood there in the rain, holding each other and they cried for the woman they'd both loved.

* * *

Spike had watched Buffy from his spot across the street for three nights straight, ever since the funeral. Dawn had gone to spend some time with Dad in LA but someone was always with Buffy. He'd heard her cry out in her sleep more than once and had been glad to see that she wasn't alone.

Tonight, though, her good night to Giles was final. "Perhaps I should just..." he began, but she pushed him outside good-naturedly.

"Giles," Buffy explained at the door. "Thank you so much for everything you've done, but you need to go home."

"Well, if you're sure," and he got in his little red car and left.

Spike considered what he should do, but before he'd finished considering, he found himself on her doorstep, ringing the bell.

"Giles," Buffy said as she opened the door, "really, I'll be just...," but it wasn't Giles. Spike stood in the light on her front porch.

"It's just me," he apologized. "Thought I'd drop by and see if you needed...anything?"

Buffy looked at him with opened eyes. Spike was being kind. "No," she said slowly. "I'm good." She saw the hurt look of several, had it only been days, ago when she'd un-invited him, pass over his face again before he reacted.

"Right, then," he hesitated, "Just thought I'd ask," and he turned to go.

"But," Buffy said, hesitantly. Spike stopped to the top of the stairs.

"If you'd like to...," What was she doing?

"...come inside..." Was she nuts?

"...I could try to make some hot chocolate."

Spike closed his eyes and let the words sink in. She was inviting him in.

With the open invitation made, he returned to the door. "Not just now, Slayer. But thanks for the invitation," he grinned. He knew it'd drive her crazy. Her eyes opened wide and she slammed the door in his face again. But they both knew he'd be back. He couldn't stay away.

The next night, Spike did come in for that hot chocolate. Buffy was not really happy about making it for him, though. "Here's your cocoa," she announced, as she rattled the cup and saucer onto the counter next to where he sat, perched in his usual place. She walked around the other side of the kitchen island to face him.

"I don't know why I asked you back into this house."

"I do, love," Spike helped. "Because you know I'm right. There is something between us, pretty or not. And it's eatin' at you."

"There can't be anything between us, Spike, except hate. You know, "I hate you, you hate me"? There can't be anything because for there to be anything, there has to be friendship, mutual respect, kindness, appreciation first. Not," she pointed first to herself then to Spike, "this."

Spike hopped down off the counter. He leaned over to the island, his face across from hers. "That's where you're wrong, Slayer."

God, she hated it when he told her she was wrong.

"Friendship is overrated as the means to a relationship."

"Huh?" Buffy folded her arms in front of her.

"Being enemies has primed us for each other. I guarantee you know more about me as my enemy than you know about anyone, except maybe the Scoobies, but you've known them longer. Need proof?" he asked as she laughed. "Think about it, love. You know where I hang out." She refused to answer. "Don't you?"

Where was this going, she wondered. Okay, I'll play. "Your crypt...the Bronze...Willy's...your car...the cemetery...the convenience store on 5th...the newsstand on 12th."

"Yes, Ms. Summers. Next question. What's my best move?"

"Your side kick. Those steel-toed boots are murder." Buffy remembered a particularly swift kick in the chin and reached up without thinking to rub the spot.

Spike nodded, "Right again. Now, what do I like to eat...well currently."

"Chicken wings, Buffalo...Guinness...hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows...oh, and onion blossoms."

"Very good. Now, pet, could your friends tell you that when you go to do a flying back kick you double-pump your left hand? Or that before you go to bed at night, you always check under it. Or that on your way to the Magic Shop you never step on the cracks in the sidewalk."

"Okay, Spike, your stalker self is creeping me out."

"Sorry, love, sometimes it's hard to tell where one stops and the other starts. Well. There's your proof, Buffy. As enemies, you and I knew each other because we had to, because if we didn't, we were inviting trouble. You only know those kinds of things about your friends because they're always around, you don't _need_ to."

Buffy considered that, "But what about mutual respect, shared interests?"

"I've been working on that," and Spike produced two, perfect pints of Ben and Jerry's from the pockets of his duster. "Join me?"

Buffy looked at the ice cream. "You do know how to tempt me, Spike," and she got out two spoons.

"Been working on that too, Buffy."

Buffy's eyes rolled as took her ice cream and walked to the living room. "The only thing better than ice cream is ice cream and old movies. Follow me to the videos."

Later that evening, after ice cream and a showing of "Bringing Up Baby", Spike stood up. "I should go."

"But there's more Hepburn/Grant fun to be had. See? "The Philadelphia Story"."

"No, love, you need your rest and..."

"Spike," Buffy interrupted, "I don't want to be alone." She looked up at him. "Please stay."

Half way through the second movie, Buffy fell asleep. Spike laid her down on the couch and covered her with the blanket hanging across the back. Then he sat down in the chair opposite her and watched. She's so beautiful, he thought. He was overwhelmed with her. Summers, you've bewitched me.

At 5:00 am, he knelt on the floor in front of the couch. "Buffy, love," he called softly as he caressed her arm, "I've got to go. Just enough time to get home."

Buffy wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "So soon?" she asked quietly.

"Been here all night, pet. If I don't go now, my DeSoto will turn back into a pumpkin."

Buffy smiled. Cinderella was always one of her favorites. Did he know that too? She got up and walked him to the door.

"Thanks for the re-invite, Buffy. I missed you." Spike reached up and gently moved a strand of her hair into place. "You're devastatingly beautiful, you know. Through and through."

Buffy didn't even flinch when he kissed her cheek. There might be something to his enemy theory after all.

* * *

The next night, when Spike returned, the front door of Buffy's house was open. He heard sweet, soft music, through the door. He knocked, but there was no answer. He leaned in. "Buffy? Slayer?" Still no answer, so he came in further. He looked into the living room and saw her. She was standing in the middle of the room, dust rag in one hand, polish in the other, with tears running down her face.

"Buffy? Love?" Spike questioned.

"Mom always played this record when she was happy. I remember it from when I was little." Buffy's tears wouldn't stop. "I found it on the turntable. Mom was the only one that still used it. She loved this song. She must have been playing it..." The thought of her mom's one last good day overtook Buffy and she started to waiver.

Spike reached out and held her arms until she stopped swaying. Then he gently took the things out of her hands. He put them on the coffee table. He grabbed a nearby tissue and dried her tears. "Well, let's not waste a good memory." He reached out and took her hand in his. His other arm slipped around her softly. As though it was meant to be there. He began to move with the music,

 _"The very thought of you, and I forget to do  
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do.  
I'm living in a kind of daydream, I'm happy as a king,  
Foolish though it may seem, to me that's everything."_

Buffy swayed with him, mindless of why at first, but when she realized they were dancing, she looked into Spike's blue eyes. "Dancing?"

 _"The mere idea of you, the longing here for you,  
You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you.  
I see you face in every flower, your eyes in stars above,  
It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love."_

"Couldn't help myself, Buffy. Music, moonlight, you. I'm powerless."

"Well, I'll have to remember that combination," she sniffed and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"No need, love. I will."

She lifted her head and their cheeks touched, tentatively. He could feel her breathing, waiting. He tilted his head to one side and moved his lips to hers. He kissed her...a soft, gentle, slow, first kiss. Followed by many, many more.

* * *

One morning, a week later Spike woke up with a start, shaking uncontrollably. The nightmare again. He looked over to the nightstand. The alarm clock hadn't rung. The time read "4:15 AM" .

He forced himself to lay down. To relax. The alarm clock was set to go off in ten minutes anyway. He waited. When it finally rang, he watched as she reached over and slapped the snooze button. Seven more minutes.

Buffy rolled back in bed and eyes closed, reached for him. He felt her strength as she fit herself next to him. Her smooth, warm skin contrasted with his, complimenting his. Her hand rested on his chest, protective, loving. He slipped his arm under her head, around her back and rested his hand on her bare shoulder. His fingers lightly traced the curve of her skin.

"Tickles," Buffy murmured and shrugged into him. Then, "You should go. Only an hour until daylight," she reminded him quietly.

He smiled, closing his eyes and feeling the sensations. "I have a few minutes to spare, love. I'll wait 'til it rings again."

"Maybe it won't," she said dreamily, "and we can stay like this forever." She reached up off his shoulder to kiss his cheek. Then she slid back into place. It had to be real, his dreams had never even been this good. This was perfection.

The past week had been amazing. Ever since Buffy had let him into her life. They still fought, probably always would, but it was mostly good-natured and most often ended up on a serious session of making up. He was enjoying the fulfillment of everything he had longed for, for so long, and it was good, right.

Then the nightmares started.

* * *

They were both having the same ones.

He supposed they started when he began to think, "What next?". It started with wondering about what tomorrow would bring and moved to the day after that, and the day after that. Now that he had her, he couldn't imagine a time without her. Time was what he longed for the next moment they would be together, when he could hold her again...but time was also his new enemy.

He laughed once at the irony.

"Hmmm?" Buffy asked from his shoulder.

"Oh, nothing, pet. Just thinking."

"'bout what?" Buffy stirred.

"Us."

"I like us," she purred.

He rolled over and pinned her to the mattress gently. He looked down into her luminescent eyes. Eyes he'd imagined looking at him, just they way they were now. How could he ever say good-bye to her? He kissed her with a sudden desperation.

"Buffy, don't ever leave me," Spike asked.

"Spike..."

He interrupted, "because I'd turn to dust if you did."

She hesitated. She'd thought that her premonitions of her own death had been because of her mom's illness. But they hadn't stopped. They'd gotten stronger. She knew it would be soon. How could she say what her heart had been telling her, "Spike...I just can't make any guarantees...yet. But I am here with you now," she continued, "and you make me feel loved and safe and protected."

Spike looked down at her. He thought of the times they'd fought. Of the years they'd fought. Of how he could never beat her. "You have the love part right, Summers, but I doubt the Slayer needs protection," he scoffed gently.

"Some things just keep coming, Spike."

He knew what she was thinking. He always knew.

"Buffy, _I_ will always be here."

"But _I_ won't." She closed her eyes and turned away from him, "and I've been getting the feeling that it's going to be soon." Well, she thought, there it is.

He lay back down and closed his eyes as well. His closed eyes began flashing images from his nightmare; of her in pain...suffering...dead. He opened his eyes again, refusing to see, needing to see her as she was. She was looking at the ceiling, remembering. "Spike, I've been a very lucky Slayer. The Chosen Ones before me, have never lived this long. It's because I had family and friends, Giles, Faith, Kendra and you to help me, well, you for the last part anyway," she smiled softly. "I wouldn't have made it this far without you all," her voice trailed off.

Spike was feeling trapped, claustrophobic, shaky. It wasn't fair for her to talk that way. He'd only had her for a week. A week wasn't long enough. A month wouldn't be, a year, a lifetime. And _he_ had forever to think about. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He held out his hands and willed them to be still.

"It's alright, Spike," Buffy sat up and tried to make him not worry about her. She'd accepted it. It was inevitable. "I've always known my time was short. Well, since Slayer-ing became my profession. No career days for me, no retirement plan, no hope chest, no long term relationsh...," she stopped and put her hand over her mouth as his back straightened. "Buffy, the Idiot" she thought. She sat up behind him on the bed and reached her hands up to his shoulders, resting her head on his back. "I'm sorry."

Spike wouldn't look at her. He couldn't. "Buffy, let's go away somewhere. Where we can be what we aren't."

"There's no such place, my love."

The alarm clock rang again. Buffy reached back to shut it off for good this time. She was suddenly cold and she wrapped the covers around her and sat down.

Spike half spoke, half thought, "If we left Sunnydale, we'd have more time."

"Yes, but I wouldn't be doing Slayer duty. And that would have consequences."

She was right. If they left town, no one would be left to guard the Hellmouth; the Council would hunt them down. It wouldn't matter to them if they killed her or him. Kill him - Buffy comes back to Sunnydale. Kill her New Slayer coming right up. That was more likely. Why have a half-hearted Slayer around? He couldn't let that happen. And hiding from trouble for the next lifetime wasn't any life for a Slayer.

"Damn duty," he snapped. "Why? Why do _you_ have to be the one? Faith is a Slayer. I hear that she's on the straight and narrow. Let her come to the Sunnyhell and do _her_ duty for a while."

Buffy had thought it through. "Spike," she said evenly, "if the Watchers got her out of jail...and they would if I left...I can't trust her. Sure she's been to the other side and come back. More power to her, but others have done that." They both knew who she meant. "Anyway, I would never forgive myself if anything happened under her watch." After that sank in, she continued, "We just have to accept that we're living on the edge. You and I, we've jumped off a cliff together. We both know what'll happen in the end, just not how high the cliff is."

He nodded. They were both falling at an incredible rate and dangers were everywhere. There was, most importantly, the worry about Buffy and the premonitions. And although sending Dawn to her dad's after the funeral was a good idea, Glory was still lurking about. But now it also seemed like all the vamps and demons in town had it in for him, personally.

He hadn't told Buffy, but the demon population of Sunnydale had already heard about him and the Slayer and had decided that enough was enough. No more rogue vamp allowed here at the Hellmouth. Even though he'd taken a different route from Buffy's to his crypt every night and he'd had fights his way home more than once. If the demons in this town ever got organized, he'd be in serious trouble. He knew his time was limited too.

Buffy knew it was useless for them to hope for more. "I will always be what I am, and you will always be what you are."

He turned around to look at her. In the soft pre-dawn light, she was beautiful. Her eyes shimmered, her spirit glowed. "I don't believe that, Summers. Neither of us is who we were a year ago, or even a week ago. There's got to be a way." He was not going to loose this fight with her. Even if he had to drag her kicking and screaming into a new life. Spike reached for his clothes. He had about half an hour of dawn left and he needed help.

Spike tested the doorknob. Locked but not up-invited. He smiled. Giles the nutty professor, always forgetting something. He jimmied the lock and stepped over the threshold into the apartment. Sunrise minus two minutes. A little close.

He sat down to wait.

* * *

Giles came out of the bedroom at 6:45. He walked into his kitchen to make tea. He started the water, went to the door for his paper and noticed the door wasn't locked. He inspected it, saw it had been tampered with and turned around to see Spike looking at him.

"'Morning' Rupert. I thought you'd never get up."

Giles jumped, but recovered quickly. "Spike. You're not welcome here. Please leave."

"Well, apparently you're wrong. I just walked right in."

"An oversight on my part, which I will see to immediately, I assure you."

Spike stood up and walked over to the door. He closed it gently. "Well, not just now. We have something to discuss."

Giles mind was clearing rapidly and filling with questions. Best to just ask them, he thought. "What is it you want?" he asked.

"Funny you should say that. I think you know what I want. But I don't think you know that I already have it." He smiled.

"Buffy?"

"Yep. She and I have been together for about a week now. Are you shocked?"

Yes, he was shocked. But he wasn't surprised. He'd seen it coming a long time ago and she'd been scarce lately. "That makes things very difficult," was all he could say.

"Yes," Spike agreed.

Giles' initial reaction to Spike's news was to make an attempt to grab a crossbow from his wall, but Spike beat him there. He grabbed Giles' wrists and held them tightly, but not enough to hurt him. No good being incapacitated by that chip now.

"Giles," Spike started softly, but with conviction, " I love her. You need to know that first."

"Oh, I believe that you _think_ you love her."

"No, I _really_ love her. She's all I think about. She's my every motivation. She's the only reason I'm still alive and in this bleedin' town." He released the other man. "Giles" he started. He looked at the other man and realized that he could pour out his heart all day here, but he wouldn't be moved. He was standing there not trusting, not caring. He couldn't blame him. Vampires were not something to be worried over from a Watcher's point of view. But a Slayer was. Spike quickly changed tactics. "She's in danger."

Giles was immediately interested. "Oh?"

"We've both had premonitions that her time is near." Giles paled a little and sat down. Spike to a chair opposite him. "No matter what you think, Watcher, I intend to do my best to keep her safe, but any help would be bloody welcome."

Five minutes passed in silence.

"It's true, you know," Giles remembered, "a Slayer always knows their time."

Spike nodded silently. He knew. He'd seen it in their eyes, twice. "There has to be a way, Rupert. Buffy's time as a Slayer has been unlike any of the others'. She's died once already. Other Slayers have existed in her lifetime. She's certainly sacrificed more than any of them in sending Angel to hell. She's been in love with a vampire."

Giles looked up. Spike wasn't talking about himself. "Not you?"

"Not yet," Spike admitted, "but things are changing. I'm still hoping."

"Give me some time to think this over." Spike heard Giles' voice was distracted, but softer. He agreed.

"Okay, I'll let you think it over. But we don't have much time. Mind if I sack out here today? It's a hike to my crypt."

Giles nodded and went to get dressed. He had to be in the shop by 8:00.

After her morning classes, Buffy went to the Magic Shop. She was a little uneasy around everyone these days, but she knew that avoiding them would lead to even more questions, so she went to train.

Giles was waiting for her. That morning's conversation with Spike had replayed in his head all day. He was worried about Buffy's destiny, but her relationship with Spike frustrated him. For her to choose a vampire lover, again, was abhorrant. More than that, she had mistrusted him, not telling him about Spike or her preminitions...their preminitions. He'd gotten angry. When she walked in the door he grabbed her roughly by the elbow and led her to the back room roughly. "Anya, watch the store," he called out after them, "we are not to be disturbed." He closed the training room door behind him and turned to her sharply. "What's going on between you and Spike?" he demanded.

"Giles, I don't know what you're...," she started to lie. Then Giles backhanded her. She stepped back. Stunned.

The reserved English Watcher confronted her, "If violence is the only thing you understand Buffy, then, by God, I will use it." He shoved her shoulders and she stepped back again.

"Giles what have I done?" she begged.

"Your new _lover_ came to my house this morning. He says that you've been together for a week."

She couldn't say anything. How could she?

He pushed her again. She backed into the wall, crying now. Giles had never so much as raised his voice to her, well hardly ever. He was solid, dependable, supportive, caring.

Giles raised his hand again, Buffy lowered her head and put up no resistance.

Slowly, his hand fell. He turned away so Buffy wouldn't see his face.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Yes," she sobbed. "It's true, Giles," and she slid to the floor.

He stood watching her, her body convulsed with sobs. Spike had been right. There had never been another like her. He stepped toward her and sat at her side.

Slowly she stopped crying and there they sat, side by side in silence.

"Giles, I...," she sniffed.

He handed her a handkerchief.

"Thanks," and she blew her nose.

"Buffy, you know this is wrong. Spike knows it's wrong...you said he told you so himself. What...?" he trailed off, his anger dissappating as Buffy rubbed her hand over the cheek he'd reddened.

"Giles, I needed someone. Dawn's just a kid. Mom was gone. Xander had Anya, Willow has Tara. He needed someone. We needed each other. We need each other," she corrected.

"So just a convenience, then?"

"Maybe. At first," Buffy admitted. "But there is something more than that. I'm just not totally sure I know what it is yet." She hesitated. "But, Giles," he turned toward her, "he does care about me. I _do_ know that."

Giles was silent for a while. He thought about Spike and the hundreds of times he'd hoped this would never happen. Then he thought about Buffy and how hard her life had been, and how it must feel to be near the end of it all.

He couldn't apologize, his anger had been justified, but she deserved better. "Perhaps," he began haltingly, "we could talk to the Council." Buffy looked doubtful. "They might know of a way to release you from your role. You have been a Slayer longer than anyone before and you have accomplished so much." He paused and then decided to test the waters, "But with Spike in the picture, I doubt..." He looked at her.

Buffy knew what he was asking her to do. A month ago, it would have been second nature to stake Spike, a welcome diversion, but now, "Yes, Giles. He's in the picture."

"Okay, then," Giles acquiessed. "As I said, they might be willing to listen." Then he thought out loud, "If we only had something to bargain with."

"A broomstick," Buffy nodded.

"A what?"

"A broomstick. You know, like Dorothy." Giles was stumped, "You know, she had to bring the Wizard of Oz the broomstick of the Wicket Witch of the West before he would grant her her heart's desire."

They looked at each other. "Glory," they said in unison.

* * *

Buffy had never worked so hard in her life. The rest of the Scoobies were astonished at how driven she had become.

Willow named her "Booky Buffy."

"I'm just tired of having Glory around every corner," she lied.

They combed through each of Giles' books. The surfed the internet and found nothing. Glory was an enigma. She had always existed, so she had never existed.

Buffy sat down with Anya. "Tell me about the demon dimensions, Ahn." And Anya provided more information than they had all found together so far, but it still wasn't enough.

At night, Buffy would quiz Spike about demons and their goddesses and look through more books and more ancient texts.

"What are you up to, pet?" he would ask. She'd tell him the same story.

Spike worried. He stuck by her everywhere he could. He was with her all night, every night. He would patrol with her then watch over her as she slept, he could rest when they were apart. But she was spending more and more time at the Magic Shop and with the Scoobies where he couldn't just show up. He knew she was up to something. Hunting. He called Giles to get an answer, but he would only say she was "working". When asked, Giles would only say that he was still looking into the problem. Spike was frustrated. He had to do something. He began to prowl the streets of Sunnydale on his own. Searching for...well, something.

Then, one day, the phone rang. It was Quentin. "Buffy, we have found a text you might find of interest." It was the first sign of hope in days. She practically reached through the phone and kissed him.

"Yes?"

"We've sent a courier with it to Giles', but let me just say that it's just a prophecy, not an answer."

"Getting answers is one of our best things, Quentin. Thank you."

Buffy raced through the door of the Magic Shop. Giles was already sitting at the back table pouring through a book. Wesley sat opposite him, sipping a cup of tea.

"Are you the courier?" she confronted him unceremoniously.

He stood and nodded, "Hello Buffy. I hear that you have had a bit..."

Impatiently she interrupted, "What do you have for us, Wesley?"

"I am sorry, Buffy, I'd forgotten how rude you can be. I've brought a book which Giles did not have in his library, from my own. The Council discovered a reference to Glory in it."

"Anything, Giles?" Buffy asked.

"Well, it seems," he began, "there is a prophecy of a demon-goddess, escaped from the demon dimension. She had been a lesser goddess in that realm and is searching for the key to one where she has been given dominance."

Wesley continued, "The prophecy goes on to say that if she achieves that goal, her evil will consume humankind."

"Tell me something new, guys."

"Well, there is something about the other gods looking for her demise but being impotent because of her ability to hide with a 'second nature', and the need to destroy _it_ , not Glory, by, and I quote here, 'severing it's head and body asunder'."

Buffy was irritated, "What does _that_ mean?"

"We're not sure. We're conducting research into the hell god hierarchy, perhaps that will lead us somewhere."

Buffy sat down. This was not the earth un-shattering news she was looking for. Prophecies were always such ridiculous riddles. Frustration and concern were building on her face and Giles knew she was close to losing it. He put the book down and offered to see the other Watcher to the door. "Thank you all the same, Wesley, for what you had, and the trip down, and all. Please let us know if you discover anything more."

"Not at all," Wesley replied as he reached for his coat and threw it over his arm. He sipped the last drops from his teacup and prepared to leave. "I wish we'd known about your concerns sooner, Rupert. Perhaps the Oracles could have helped. But I'm afraid that in Angel's not currently in a position to...," he didn't finish.

"The Oracles?" Buffy seized on the word.

"Yes, they are the gateway to the Powers That Be. They serve as the Powers' servants here on earth, bringing injustices to the Powers' attention so that wrongs can be set right. Angel has been them twice, and they have assisted him in some matters of very grave importance."

"Take me to them." Buffy was out of her chair, ready to go.

"I'm afraid I can't."

She turned on him, "Why?"

"Because, Buffy, I do not know the incantation, nor do I possess the power to perform it. It requires magic skills."

Giles opened the door for Wesley, "Well, thank you anyway, Wesley. Please let us know if you get anything more."

"Certainly, Rupert. Good bye, Buffy," he called to her as he left.

Giles turned back into the room and Buffy was right there, in front of him, with the first spark of life he'd seen in her for days. "Giles, we could go to them, instead of the Council. If I can fix their little hell god problem, they'd have the power to release me from the Council. Wouldn't they?" Giles nodded, unsure. "I know that if you can find the incantation, Willow and Tara will be able to do it."

"I don't know, Buffy, it sounds dangerous, The Powers That Be are unpredictable and...," the look on her face stopped him; fear and desperation rolled up in eternal hope.

"Giles," she pled. "Right broomstick. Wrong wizard."

"Well, it couldn't hurt to look into it as a possibility."

* * *

Spike saw Ben walking toward him on the crowded sidewalk. The street outside the Bronze was always busy this time of night. He turned his head away. He wasn't sure if Ben would remember him, but he didn't want to talk to him anyway. "Although," Spike thought, "I could tell him that he lost out in the Buffy game. That cold be fun." Besides, there was something about this guy that made him feel...weird.

After they passed each other, Spike pivoted and followed Ben into the Bronze. He stood back as Ben ordered a beer and sat down at an empty table. He wasn't alone for long. A very young, very drunk young lady leaned on the table next to him. "Hi, honey," she dripped.

"Some young bint hitting on him, I suppose," Spike thought. Then the girl leaned on the table a little too hard and it went over.

"Eww," she offered as Ben jumped up.

One of the employees ran over to help. "You okay, mister?"

"Silly me," the girl giggled as she melted back into the crowd.

"I'm all right," Ben told the kid. "Let me help you clean this up." They stood up the table and the waiter went to get a towel to wipe up the mess. Ben bent down and began to pick at the broken glass on the floor. "Oh, geez. Damn," Ben cursed and stood up. His hand was bleeding.

Spike chuckled. Benjy's night wasn't going well already. He stood up to walk over there and add to Ben's misery by telling him about Buffy when the waiter returned.

"Thanks for your help, mister. Oh, man. Let me get you a Band-Aid. Oh, and here, someone sent you this," and she handed Ben a slip of paper as she left for the First Aid kit.

Ben obviously didn't like what the note had to say. He dropped it on the floor then looked around, wishing that that girl hadn't spilled his drink. He looked at his bleeding hand then sighed and walked resignedly toward the Bronze's back door.

As soon as he'd left, Spike slid over and picked up the note. "Meet me out back NOW if you know what's good for you," followed by a large and very fluid "G".

Spike's eyebrows went up. G? Could that be our friend Glory? What's little Ben gotten himself into?

He followed Ben to the back door and inched it barely open so he could see the alley beyond. He stayed perfectly still. Waiting. All of his hunting instincts were running on high. This was important. Ben was talking to one of those crusty little Glory-monks. Spike strained to hear what was being said.

"I was just sitting down to a beer, Dreg. It's been a long day and I need a break. Can't this wait until later?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Ben. Our magnificent Glorificus has plans herself this evening and demands to have that which is her most bountiful right. She is the one with the power, after all."

Ben looked away, disgusted at Dreg's supplication, then he hung his head, giving in.

"Okay, well, let's get this over with."

In the silence that followed, Spike leaned closer to the crack in the doorway to see what was happening. Even when he saw it, he wasn't quite sure what he saw. Glory stood the spot Ben had been moments before, in his clothes. Dreg was unpacking a bag on the ground.

"Damn, it Dreg," said Glory, "If you wrinkled that dress, I'm going to be very angry with you. I picked it out especially."

"Oh, no, your delicious gloriousness, it's fine." He held up the bright red dress nervously and brushed it off. "See."

Glory shrugged out of Ben's scrubs and wriggled into the dress, unconcerned about the stares of her minion. "Shoes?"

"Yes, most beloved one, right here," Dreg responded, pulling a pair of matching pumps from his bag.

"Ah, that's better," Glory sighed as she smoothed her dress.

Dreg picked up the discarded clothes and put them in his bag.

"I need something to eat now, Dreg." Dreg pointed to the back door of the Bronze. She looked. Spike ducked. "No, little man. Not drunk twenty-somethings. Something _really_ scrumptious."

"Of course, your bounteous beautiful one," Dreg groveled. "The car is just in front, awaiting your pleasure," and they both walked out through the alley.

Spike let the door close slowly. "Bloody hell."

* * *

Buffy knocked. "Will?" she called as she knocked again. Willow opened the door and Buffy stepped inside. "Giles says you need to see me."

"Buffy." Willow greeted her. "Giles gave us the incantation to speak to the Oracles. The incantation itself is really simple, but the magic is pretty high-level stuff."

"We should be able to do it, though," Tara finished.

Buffy sat on the bed next to Willow.

"First we have to find this Gateway for Lost Souls," Tara explained from her chair across the room. "Then the Oracles must be summoned. We'll need some special ingredients."

"Giles said he could get them," Willow added.

"There's one part that Giles couldn't tell us, though, Buffy. There's this offering thing. We're not sure what they'll be expecting. Could be jewels, a sheep, flowers, a person. We just don't know."

"Okay," Buffy responded. She'd have to think up an appropriate gift. Couldn't be worse than...well, yeah it could.

"Oh, and you need to prepare too. The Powers That Be will only see warriors, the pure of heart," Tara read from her notes. "It seems the Oracles will judge your motives before they'll let you in."

Buffy looked up guiltily, "Oh."

"That's easy," Willow helped, "Defeating Glory and saving the world from her demony clutches. Right?"

"Sure. Yeah. Well, I guess so," Buffy stammered.

"Buff?" Willow questioned.

"Well, I guess...not."

"It's not?" Willow asked. "Buffy, what is it then?"

"Well, I guess that that is what I want. But that's not why I want it."

Willow waited. Buffy would spill sooner or later.

"Well, I am going to ask the Powers to release me. No more Slayer Buffy."

"Buffy?! Can you do that? I mean...well, I thought...I guess I never wanted to think about the ending."

"Yep, well, that's the part I want to skip all together. But I don't know if they'll let me." They all looked at each other, wondering...hoping. "Well, that's what I want to ask them."

* * *

Buffy wasn't at home so Spike made his way back to the Magic Shop through Sunnydale's deserted side streets. He had important information for Giles and he had to get it to him now.

"Oh, demon boy," a voice rang out of the darkness. "Gotta hurry home to your Slayer-girl?" A vampire stepped out of the shadows.

Spike tried to ignore him and continue down the street.

"Oh, Buffy, I can't un-live without you," mocked another voice. Three or four peals of laughter rang out all around him. This was bad.

He spun around, trying to get a sense of where they all where, and how many there were. He saw five of them immediately, and then six more appeared to his right. Damn.

"Listen, fellas," he tried to talk, "what say we do this another time? I've got to be somewhere."

"You are going to pay for what you've become, Spike," the leader stepped forward and spoke. "You're a rogue, killing your own kind. A traitor, turning us in to the Slayer. A Slayer's boy, doing her bidding, following her on a leash. You're a disgrace to the rest of us, and we're here to put that right."

Spike put on his game face, "Well, let's get on with it, then."

They were everywhere. Coming from all sides. Spike kicked the first one in the chest and sent him sprawling. The second and third he dusted with the stakes from his pocket, one left, one right. Number four's fist connected with Spike's chin and threw him off balance. He rolled to the ground and took the legs out from under two of them. As he stood he dusted another of them. He grabbed the head of another vampire and hit it with his own. A chaos demon lifted him off the ground, and got a knee in its face for its trouble. It dropped him. Spike rolled when he hit the ground and stood up, stakes in both hands, ready to do more battle. But he had done damage. The ones he'd hit weren't getting back up very fast. Others were keeping their distance.

"Bloody riff-raff," he spat as his face came back to normal. Spike walked away. They crawled.

* * *

They were all sitting around the table, checking everyone's progress on the Oracles. Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya. Giles stood to the side, one hand in his pocket, the other on his glasses. Buffy looked around. She was surprised to find herself thinking that she would miss this, if her plan worked.

"Has anyone found the Gateway for Lost Souls yet?" Tara asked. "It seems that we need that before we can do much of anything else."

"Wesley says that it's an inscribed, white marble arc."

"Oh!" Anya sparked. "I've seen that!"

"Where?" they all asked.

"I'm not sure now. But I have seen it."

"Think Ahn," Xander encouraged. "It's really important."

"Well, it was recently. While I was on an errand for the shop."

Giles tried to remember what he'd asked her to do lately. "Glass cleaner? Refill on newt eggs? Stamps? Hummingbird eggs? My special tea?" he suggested. They all looked at him. Special tea?

"That's it! At the post office. I needed to get 1 cent stamps, because we had lots of 33 cent stamps left over when they changed the postage. That was so difficult for us. Having to put two stamps on each letter and..."

"Yes, Ahn," Xander brought her back to her point.

"Anyway, I got lost and wandered around the building for a while. I saw this big arc that said Gateway for Lost Souls and I figured that _I_ was pretty lost, so I tried to go in, but it was locked. But I found my way out anyway," she finished.

"So we know it's at the post office? Good," Buffy monitored. "Will, Tara, how about the spell?"

"All set. Just need fire and the last of those herbs from Giles."

"Oh, yes. I nearly forgot," Giles said, "They came in this morning." He reached up to a shelf. "Here they are."

Tara checked her list, "Oh, and an urn."

"Take your pick," Giles offered. Tara went to a cabinet to make her selection.

"Then we're all ready," Willow cheered. "Oracles, here we come."

The bell over the door rang and Buffy looked up as Spike came into the shop. She saw he'd been in a fight immediately. She wanted to cross the room, hold him, ask him what had happened, but with the others there, she couldn't.

"Spike. I thought we told you not to come in here again," Xander reminded him with venom.

"Yeah," Anya helped.

"Sorry, pal, it's a public place," he explained off-handedly. "Giles, we need to talk," he called as he walked past them all, to the back room.

"Giles?" Xander wondered and they all looked up at where he'd been standing. The last time Giles had seen Spike, he had threatened to stake him himself. Now he was following Spike into the back room to talk? What was up?

Buffy followed Spike and Giles into the back room, "I'll just keep an eye on...them," she sputtered. The other Scoobies just gaped as she closed the door between them. "Be right back."

Buffy turned into the room, "My God, Spike. What happened? Are you all right?"

He rubbed his chin and smiled. "Nothing pet, only eleven to one. And I'm here now."

She felt herself start to shake. Eleven to one? Simultaneously two thoughts came to her, he could have been killed, and she was terribly proud. She knew that kissing him in front of Giles was probably not a good idea just yet, but she could have, and Spike saw it in her eyes.

Giles saw it too. "What is it you have to say, Spike?" Giles interrupted.

"I know how to find Glory," he announced, "and how to kill her."

* * *

Buffy felt her heart sink to her shoes, out the soles and through the floorboards. There had to be another way.

"No. I just can't do that," she insisted. "I can't kill Ben. No matter who he is when he isn't him, it's Glory that our fight is with, not him. He's good. He saved Dawn."

"You're right, it doesn't seem fair. He can't help what he is. But it's the only way, love," Spike comforted her.

"It does seem our only hope," Giles agreed reluctantly. "The prophecy did say that Glory had a 'second nature', and that the beheading of that second nature was the end of the evil."

She knew what she had to do. She just didn't want to do it.

Spike knew that Buffy was thinking about Faith. Her tragic slide into the dark side had begun with a human killing. "Love, it isn't him. It's Glory. It's the only time that she's defenseless. Seeing him bleed...he can be harmed. You need to do it then." He continued, "I'll be there with you."

She couldn't look at them. "How?" Buffy submitted to the inevitable.

"This should do," Giles said. He walked across the room and took something off the wall. He held out the sword of the Knight of Byzantium to her. "Remember, Buffy, Ben and Glory may appear to be completely separate, but they cannot exist without each other. They are one being. A hell god."

Buffy didn't take the sword.

There was a knock. Tara opened the door and leaned her head into the room. "You said you'd be right back. We were beginning to worry."

The gang followed Tara into the training room. Spike stepped back into the corner. He didn't want there to be trouble with the Scoobies. There was enough trouble already.

Buffy was leaning up against the wall. She looked like hell. "What is it Buff? asked Xander.

She didn't answer.

"We seem to have an angle on the Glory problem. A possible solution," Giles replied for her.

"Well, hey now, that's a good thing! Right?" Xander didn't understand Buffy's gloomy countenance.

"Not so much," Buffy intoned from her part of the wall.

"What, Buffy? What is it?" Willow wanted to know what was making her so sad.

"Well," Giles summed up, "it seems that young Ben is Glory's 'second nature', the vulnerable one. The one to be beheaded."

"Stop saying that!" Buffy yelled. The thought of killing someone in cold blood was freezing her own. She was shaking and wandering around the room aimlessly.

Xander worried about her. "Isn't there some other way?"

Giles shook his head.

Buffy punched something.

No one said anything.

Then Spike walked across the room to her and put his arms around his Slayer.

She reached out and clung to him. She needed him to make this go away. She couldn't face the thought of what she had to do. She buried her face in his shoulder and he stroked her hair.

No one said anything.

Everyone looked at Giles, at each other, at Buffy and Spike. What was going on?

Giles directed everyone out of the room, back to the table in the shop. They went and closed the door leaving Spike and Buffy alone.

"What the HELL was that?" Xander demanded.

"That was Buffy needing someone," Giles explained.

"Spike? SPIKE?" Willow couldn't believe it. "Is she crazy? I knew she was...but never SPIKE. I mean...NEVER. I can't believe..."

Giles stopped her. "I can't say that I liked the idea much either. But things have been happening to Buffy that none of us understand. She doesn't share a lot with us. She doesn't want to worry us or frighten us. You've been patrolling with her, but do you really know what it's like to face death every day? To know that you are the only thing that stands between life and death? To destroy demons, sometimes several demons, one day and get up and do it again and again?"

"Well, no, but...," Willow began to interrupt.

"Spike does, in a reverse sort of way. He understands her," Giles finished. "And he cares for her, that's obvious. How much of that is the chip is yet to be seen, but right here, right now, he loves her and that's enough for them."

The training room door opened and Spike came out. "Kleenex?" He asked Giles. Anya reached behind the counter and handed him the box. He nodded to her and turned to go back to Buffy. Xander got in his way.

At first he said nothing. Then, "If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"Xander," Spike looked him straight in the eye, "If I hurt her, I'll do myself in." He stepped around Xander and into the training room.

* * *

Several minutes later, Buffy and Spike came out of the room together. Buffy had gathered herself and the sword was in her hand.

Buffy and Spike went home together that night. They spent a lot of time talking about how Spike had found out about Ben. They wanted to plan, but they couldn't. So much depended on what tomorrow would bring.

Buffy was in turmoil. She paced the floors, telling herself that it wasn't Ben she'd be killing, that it was Glory, a hell god. That the murder committed by Faith was not the same. "I just wish it were all over."

Finally Spike stopped her and held her in his arms, comforting her. "Buffy, this thing tomorrow. It'll be all right. You'll do whatever you need to do to save the world, as you always do, and I will be there with you." He looked into her hazel eyes, "Don't you trust me?"

She hesitated. A small, tiny, wicked little voice in the back of head Buffy's head started talking. It told her that maybe, just maybe, Spike set the whole thing up. An elaborate plan by Bad Spike who, unable to wound her any longer because of the chip, sought to do evil by having her kill a human and go all bad.

Spike stepped back. How could she not trust him after...well, after everything? "Damn you, Buffy," he wailed. "What do I have to do to prove myself to you? I've been a right good boy for nearly two years. A bleedin' excellent job of turning a life around, if I do say so myself. Never done anything but help your friends, your family. Nearly killed Dru for you. Did kill lots of other nasty things. Fought for you, protected you, loved you. What will it take, Buffy? Please?!"

"Spike. It's not you," she stammered, "what we've had this last week has been important, wonderful. It's that...that piece of plastic in your brain. If it weren't there I would know that you loved me by choice, not because your choices ran out. I just don't know what to believe any more. Things have been changing so quickly."

He walked across the room away from her, "Bloody hell, Slayer. Do you think that I'm as weak as all that? That my brain was made mush by that little chip? I loved you even before that, I _chose_ to love you before that. What this chip has done is to help me change the way I act so that you would...could...might love me back. I thought that's where we were headed."

Buffy looked at him, "I think we're headed there too, Spike." He looked at her. Had she just said she loved him? Buffy continued, "It's just the Slayer in me vs. the Vampire in you. I don't know if we'll ever get beyond that."

Spike walked back to her. "Well, love, after you talk to the Oracles tomorrow, we'll be half way there," he paused and sighed. "I got angry just now, but I've seen it in your eyes. I've sensed your fear and it tears me apart." He fell to his knees, "Don't you know what it would mean to me to be able to come to you as a man, not a demon? To feel my heart beating when you take my hand? To catch my breath when you come in a room? To take a walk with you on the beach? To grow old with you?"

She knelt before him, "I'm sorry, Spike. I'm just no good at leaps of faith. I guess that I've seen too much to believe in miracles any more. But if you don't mind, I'd like to keep trying to believe in this one."

Spike gathered her in his arms and they held each other for a long time.

* * *

Finding Ben wasn't hard. One phone call revealed that he had a regular work schedule and apparently kept it like clockwork. Have to seem like a normal guy, right?

He left work at 9:00 pm on the dot. Buffy and Spike waited for him in the parking lot. It was practically over before it began. Spike was leaning on a car and stood up to ask Ben for a light. Ben stopped to respond and Spike punched him in the stomach. He doubled over and Buffy walked out from behind the car with the sword. She raised it over his head and hesitated. Ben raised his head and recognized her. "Buffy?" he asked. Buffy shifted her grip and looked at Spike.

He had stepped back from the scene. Their eyes met. This is what had to be done. She loved Spike. She trusted Spike. She was the Slayer. She blinked once and then swung the sword downward with full force. There was a sickening crunch of bone and two soft thuds as his head and body hit the ground, separate. As they watched, the body turned from Ben to Glory and then to another demon they hadn't met...all three were dead. She went back around the car and threw up.

Spike knelt over the body, making sure that it couldn't regroup. Some demons did that. Not this one. When he was sure, he went to Buffy. "We can go now, love," he told her. She nodded and leaned on him. "We did what had to be done, love. No more, no less."

Buffy was overwhelmed with a sense of relief. Everything had worked out just the way they'd planned. No shadows in the dark ready to overtake her, no surprise endings.

She nodded again. He began to lead her towards his car across the lot. She got a few steps then said, "You go ahead, Spike. I have to get something." He went to get the car and drove it back to her. She threw something in the trunk and climbed in beside him. "That should be enough," she muttered.

Spike wondered what she was talking about, but the silence was good for her to recoup, so he was quiet.

A few minutes later, Buffy lay her head back on the seat of the car and said, "Spike, I'm sorry I was such an idiot. If nothing else, we ought to be able to trust each other. I don't know why you put up with me."

He reached over and held her hand. "That's easy, Buffy, I love you."

This time, Buffy said it back.

* * *

The next day Buffy and Spike slept in. After they had left the parking lot the night before, they'd come back to her house, called Giles to confirm the plan had succeeded. Buffy had a long hot shower and crawled into bed with Spike, emotionally drained. They spent all night talking about what had happened. Buffy couldn't close her eyes, afraid that some dark force would overtake her.

Spike worried. This had been really rough on her. So he did what he could, he lay there, holding her until dawn, reassuring her, "I'm here, love. It's all right. Glory is gone." She slept fitfully at first, whimpering, shaking, conquering the demons in her head. But finally she slept.

At noon she woke up. She checked. No dark shadows, no hidden desire to kill again. She seemed to have made it through, again. "What time is it?"

"Well past my bedtime, love," Spike answered sleepily from his side. "It's twelve-ish."

"God! I was supposed to meet Tara and Will at the post office at noon," she gasped. She threw on a top and pants. "I'm sorry, I've got to go." She kissed him good bye and scrambled down the stairs.

"Right then," he sat up and called after her. "I'll just wait here." He heard her go into the trunk of his car and slam it shut before she left. What was she up to?

The weight of the bag was surprisingly light for the value of what it contained. Buffy hefted it over her shoulder and ran into the main entrance of the post office. Buffy found Tara and Willow in an unused corridor in the lower level. "I'm so sorry I'm late," she apologized.

"Oh, well," Willow dismissed her. "That's okay. We just spent a half an hour finding the arc and we've just started setting up the...Buffy, why didn't you tell us about you and Spike?"

"I'm sorry, Will. It just all happened really fast. And right now it's kinda delicate, you know?" she explained with a shy grin, "But you know what? I'm really happy for the first time in, well, a long time. He's good to me, he loves me and I think I'm falling in love too. But don't tell him that, yet. Who'd have thought?"

"Not me," Tara offered.

"Or me," echoed Willow, "but who would have thought me and Tara or Xander and Anya? And if you're happy, Buffy, I'm glad for you. Even if it is Spike." They hugged. "What's in the bag?"

"That's my offering for the Oracles," Buffy explained.

"Kind of big?" Willow hoped Buffy would tell. She didn't.

"Not as heavy as it looks," she sidestepped. "Shall we do this? I'm feeling particularly pure of heart this afternoon."

"All ready," Tara said, putting the last of the herbs in the urn. "Now we just say, "We beseech access to the knowing ones.""

"That's it?" Buffy asked, curious.

"That's it," Willow said, "Then we just light this" She held a lighter to the urn and a huge flame sprang up from its center. They all jumped back. Then the arc began to glow. "I think that means 'come in.'," Willow interpreted.

Buffy picked up her bag and reached for the door. She turned the knob and stepped inside.

She entered a bright, empty room with columns in the corners and an urn in the center. Two very glittery people greeted her.

"Come before us, warrior," said the man. "What have you brought us?"

Buffy set the bag down on the floor, removed the string holding it shut and picked it up by the bottom corners, letting it's contents roll onto the floor. The head of the hell god came to rest at the feet of the female Oracle.

"Ah," she said unmoved, "we've been looking for that one. Thank you for returning it to us."

Buffy nodded.

"You may ask your question."

Buffy had prepared her speech, but it was one thing to rehearse, and another to perform. Her voice shook, "If it is true that the Powers That Be serve justice, then I ask that justice be done. Three years ago I died in an accident but was brought back to life. In that death, a new Slayer was sent, yet my contract was not terminated. I have been held to a contract which you have broken. Is this justice?"

The Oracles waited for an answer.

It seemed like forever.

"The Powers have heard your case and they agree with you. Having more than one Slayer in the world is a breech of contract. Therefore your contract, the challenged agreement, has been terminated. The remaining contract will be reconfirmed and issued for renewal."

Faith would get a fresh start? Bonus, thought Buffy.

The woman looked up again and paused.

"The Powers have also conferred on another matter. For the service you have done, you have been granted one...what is it you humans say...wish?"

Buffy hesitated. She hadn't been prepared for this what should she. Then she knew... "I've chosen," she announced.

"But the wish you seek is not yours, it belongs to another." Apparently they knew too.

"Yes, but it's mine too. If you know my heart, you know it's true."

The Oracles looked up again.

"It is done."

Really?

Buffy didn't think she'd said it out loud. She didn't. But the female Oracle said, "Yes, really. You have served us well as a warrior, but as a lower being, you will not see us again." Then she raised her hand and Buffy found herself flying out of the door into the corridor of the post office.

Tara and Willow were there waiting.

"Ouch," Buffy said as she tried to stand up. And then she laughed. "That hurt!"

"I don't see that as so much funny," Willow offered, helping her.

"Don't you _see_ , Willow. It _hurt_. Yesterday, or even five minutes ago, it wouldn't have. I've been released. I'm just Buffy again. Just plain Buffy Anne Summers. I'm free. Free from having to patrol at night, of having to sneak through cemeteries in search of demons, free to have a life!"

"Buffy, that's great!" Tara and Willow cried out simultaneously as Buffy raced off down the hall. She had to get home.

* * *

Buffy opened the door of her house slowly. She wasn't sure what she'd find. The Powers were unpredictable, isn't that what Giles had said? It was late afternoon so she didn't think that Spike had left, but you never knew.

"Spike?" she called out.

"Up here," he called from her room.

Buffy climbed the stairs.

Spike was sitting on the bed. Waiting for her.

"Buffy," he said, "The strangest thing happened while you were gone."

He pointed to a small piece of plastic on the floor.

"I just sorta...coughed, and it came out," he said still incredulous.

Buffy was silent. Well, that _had_ been part of her wish, but if the chip was really out and Spike was now dangerous, without her Slayer powers, she was in trouble big time.

Spike stood and walked to the foot of the bed. "Another funny thing too," he continued. "Come here." Buffy walked over to him slowly. Still a little unsure.

"Look," he pointed behind her. She turned. She saw Buffy and Spike staring back at her from her mirror.

"Guess you can stop sleeping with Mr. Pointy under your pillow, love. Seems we're fresh out of vampires."

She turned to look at him. His eyes sparkled. This was good.

"Do you want to tell me what you've been up to Slayer?"

"I think you'll need to change that nickname," she corrected. "Something more like Retired Slayer, or Former Slayer my personal favorite is Slayer Emeritus"

He leaned down and kissed her, just a man and a woman in love.

She could tell him all about it later.

* * *

Buffy was waiting for her at the bus station the next morning. "Hi Dawnie," she greeted her little sister as she hit the last step. "Glad to have you back home." They hugged.

Dawn hugged her sister and looked over her shoulder at the people waiting to welcome her home.

There was Giles, Xander, Anya, Willow, Tara and...Spike?

Buffy backed off of Dawn and into his arms.

Dawn had to ask, "Did...something happen while I was gone?"

FIN


End file.
